Forces Of Nature
by The Sound Of Silver
Summary: A random collection of SLight oneshots because I get bored easily. :3 enjoy. Formerly, Family Behavior
1. Chapter 1

The world was starting over.

No.

It was far more accurate to say that the humans were starting over. The world would've went on its merry way with or without them.

Cocoon was a shell of death and crystal veins, stagnant and decaying without the power from Orphan and the Sanctum Fal'Cie. Yes, Cocoon had been dealt a mortal blow on the Day Of The Fall, the death and injured toll estimated to be in the millions, but the total destruction of the flying utopia would take a year or two.

It had started with something so simple, the weather. Without power or light, Cocoon slowly froze, the sunlight from the outside unable to penetrate the dense shell.

The Fal'Cie had always provided humanity with their every fancy; without them, humanity struggled as a whole, trying to regain their instincts which had long since been bred out of them, like temperament out of dogs. They struggled to grow food in the harsh Outlands, the weather unyielding, water scarce and the sun nonexistent.

Then the government fell. Many in the crumbling Sanctum abandoned Cocoon on that fateful day, leaving behind a destructive supernova of a leadership that collapsed on itself and formed an incompetent neutron star. Eventually, the Sanctum, which had stood as the pillar of strength for hundreds of years, fell, leaving behind a legacy of clandestine operations, greed and a government sanctioned genocide.

Many succumbed to starvation or were devoured by the unchecked beast population, which near tripled when PSICOM's brutal fiends escaped their creators and rampaged, their animal instincts taking over without the control of the humans.

The death toll was in the thousands in that year alone. It was the hardest year in human history, second only to the mystery annihilation of the original Gran Pulsians.

The lush but untamed world of Gran Pulse was the only viable option left to what remained of humanity.

The next year saw a massive influx of surviving refugees, the ships overpacked each time and running nonstop, but the process couldn't move fast enough for many. They had abandoned Cocoon and come to a world of challenges, but here they had the opportunity to survive.

It was an difficult experience. First, there needed to be leadership, accountability. That would come in the form of the Academy, founded by Bartholomew Estheim. They started out as an organized security force with the help of the members of the paramilitary group, NORA, and eventually were looked on as the main branch government. They grew rapidly, bringing the former soldiers of PSICOM and the Guardian Corps underneath them to help humanity advance by keeping the fiends at bay as the first villages, and eventually, cities, were erected. They became the Academy Guardians, a name conceived by popular opinion.

Second, humanity needed to regain their instinct. When NORA began offering self-defense and survival training, each instruction was always overfilled. Many became Guardians after graduating these instructions, but they weren't highly trained or violent people. Rather they were normal men and women who wanted to do anything to help their families survive. Some even became Academy Scholars, students researching the harsh land to understand the mysteries of the feared Gran Pulse and teach the next generation so they would never again become complacent.

Finally, after seven long years of hardship and struggle, humanity was finally settling into a normal rhythm, a routine that everyone knew by heart. Very few missed the old world and many children were born without ever setting foot on the planet of their parents. As far as they knew, the crystal pillar was always there, Academia was the oldest thing ever and that you should never pet an Ochu, lest you incur the wrath of its mother.

Mother... Lightning grumbled loudly, attracting some unwanted attention from her two teammates. Though it wasn't that hard, they were flat on their stomachs, the stone edge slick with dew and the wetness creeping into their uniforms.

"What?" Zell hissed, wondering what he was doing wrong as he adjusted his grip on his rifle.

Lightning didn't want to go into her emotional problems with Zell and Cloud. After all, she wasn't even sure about this herself and she wasn't the type to spill her fears to random strangers anyways. But she did admit that they did deserve an explanation after Cloud nearly shot himself when he jumped.

"It's... Nothing."

"Sure didn't sound like nothing," Zell whispered, aiming again. "I thought that you had a problem."

"I do."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay, then. Shut up."

Lightning's eyes flashed dangerously, but before she could cram those words back down Zell's throat, Cloud fired, drowning those violent thoughts out as she focused again. The Behemoth roared in pain as it was blinded in one eye by the blond soldier's true shot and again by Zell's.

Lightning jumped to her feet and slid down the face of the rocky hill, firing her gunblade into whatever exposed Behemoth flesh she could. The beast was blind, struggling to sense its prey when her blade found quick purchase in its head, ending the fight before it began and ridding Lèmonadè of its troublesome Behemoth problem.

As the beast slumped onto the grass, she took the time it would take Zell and Cloud to reach her to reflect. She wouldn't be able to do this for much longer. Her age wasn't the issue, she was only 27 or 28, prime time for a soldier of with her experience, but her body would soon betray her, turning her into a weak-willed, feeble-wristed, incompetent mess of hormones despite her screamed protests as she got dragged down that hall.

She shuddered, wiping Behemoth blood off her blade on the grass. Maker, she didn't want to spend her days on the couch, watching television and eating sweets, but the urge to do just that was already there. That was the two parts of her, the part that wanted to do...That... And the part that wanted to kill something in rage at her female organs because she couldn't very well stab herself.

She would've tried if it were possible.

She didn't listen at all as Selphie, the fourth member of their team, greeted them at the entrance of the town, babbled on as they waited for the connecting train and launched into an in-depth hypothesis of who her friend Rinoa had a crush on as they rode back to Academia.

Two hours of pure blocking later, Lightning had far too much knowledge about the contents of Tifa's underwear drawer-why? Just...why?-and resolved that next time, she would bring earplugs.

If there was a next time, she realized with a sickening blow to her gut.

She reached reflexively into her top, pulling at the loop dangling from its protective chain as they entered the safe gates of Academia. The sun was well into its setting, the reddish light giving her simple ring a strange luminosity as she slipped it back onto its place on her left ring finger. She never wore it out in the field for fear of losing this precious reminder of her family.

He wouldn't care either way, as long as she came home safe and alive, but this small loop of silver meant so much to her.

Her heart was a wild animal, gnawing on the entrapping cage of bone. Feelings ran rabid in her chest as the city came into her sight, the heat devouring every speck of coldness left.

But the heat was tinted with a film of bittersweet emotions. Her family was shattered, twin pieces broken off and melted into the earth and sky.

They would never see Fang and Vanille again, unless the Maker decided to start doling out miracles with the impossible label, and they all grieved for their sacrifice. They didn't have to become Ragnarok. Didn't have to save them all at the price of their own freedoms. It would've been nothing for them to let Cocoon fall, to serve as a cautionary tale to what few survivors there would be.

But they didn't.

And that made it hurt even more, though after so long, the hurt was a dull ache every now and again.

She wondered how Fang and Vanille would respond to her current predicament.

She grimaced. She knew far to well how they would react. They were the ones who had forced her to come to grips with her feelings on Gran Pulse all those years ago after all. Stupid... They probably were looking down on her right now, smirking deviously.

Fang would laugh and ask what the hell took so long. Vanille would squeal and ask to be godmother and a million other questions that would make Lightning beg to know the content of Fran's underwear drawers... But not by much.

She sighed, making her way to the home she shared with her lovable oaf of a husband. It was a small, cozy two bedroom home decorated rather sparsely. They weren't people that were fond of excessive ornamentation, rather they preferred the few treasures they had. That faded vase they had found in a cave. Her Captain's badge.

Her favorite, though she would never admit it to anyone, was the picture resting on the mantel of the fireplace. Taken by her sister, it was a rare public display of affection.

In the photograph, she looked awkwardly away from her sister, who was laughing that day, blushing as her blond husband hugged her from behind, nuzzling her pink hair. The top of her memorial tattoo, a thing she had gotten with the other ex-l'Cie to honor the time they spent together, could be seen peeking out on the left side of her chest.

She picked up the picture now and sighed, sliding her fingers down the shape of Snow's face, wishing that he would be home sooner. She wanted his opinion on her... Current situation.

It was hard for her at first to accept this part of herself, the part that loved him deeply behind a thin veil of punches and degradation. That part of her she had hidden for a long time because Snow was her beloved sister's fiancé.

But then their common grief had made her look at him differently again. Behind his joking and hero complex, he was actually thoughtful, endlessly kind and optimistic, the perfect counterpoint to her, the fountain of cynicism and negativity. With Fang's endless barrage of thinly veiled innuendos aimed at Lightning and Snow and Vanille's encouragement that they-quote-"Belong together," it was only a matter of where and when...

And Serah... Of course there was Serah.

How many months after the Fall had it been before her sister, freed from her crystal prison, had come to her, telling her that she couldn't understand what Snow saw in her, that being alone for so long had changed her perspective? Two or three? She wasn't strong enough to even fight for herself, leaving the brunt on her sister and boyfriend, not to mention four others.

Serah had expressed a desire to become stronger for herself that day, her sister watching her with an incredulous expression on her face, the bitter tea in her mug forgotten. She said she still cared for Snow, but that someone weak like her wasn't the right kind of person for him. He needed an equal.

"You love him, don't you, Claire?" Lightning had spilled her tea at that comment, thankful that the mat underneath them was deep brown.

"W - What? Of course not!"

Skeptical eyes. "Sure. Okay, let's try something simpler. Do you care about him?"

She had paused ten seconds far too long.

"I knew it!" To her surprise, Serah had laughed in relief. "You have a crush on him!"

"No, I don't. He's yours, Serah. He's your fiancé."

Serah had become somber. "Not for a few months."

"What? What happened?"

"We broke up. I told you that."

"No, you said that-why didn't you tell me this before?!"

"I don't have to get your permission for everything."

Silence.

"And you think that I'm the person for him? I'm his ex's sister."

A shrug.

"Maybe he needs a person like you in his life to keep him grounded. You two just seem like a nice pair..."

"Serah."

"What? Come on, I was joking! Look, I don't mean you two run off and get hitched, but you two need a friend who understands."

Then Serah had left, heading out with some pioneers to the south. Lightning had visited her in the settlement when the Academy started building Datanet towers two years later. Serah had become a strong, independent young woman who people counted on. She said she wanted to be a teacher later on, her whole life plan laid out in detail. She didn't need Lightning anymore.

So she became friends with Snow.

At first, it was awkward. She had assaulted his front door the very day she returned and when he did greet her, she had stared at her hands.

Then she had spun on her heel and left him standing in the doorway, bewildered at the situation.

The next day, she had found him at her front door, hesitating.

"Sorry," she had said, before stepping to the side to let him in.

It didn't start out romantic, but it became that after a year or two.

He had asked her to marry him.

She had punched him in the face.

Nearly two years later, she mumbled into her pillow after one particularly draining day, "Let's get married."

And that was that.

Now there was this. The firmness in her belly could pass off as muscle for a few more weeks, but soon there would be no denying it.

She set the picture back down and warred with herself as she stared at the phone, lying there as innocently as ever.

This wasn't an enemy she could fight. This wasn't even an enemy. But that meant she couldn't solve this situation the way she usually did, with her weapon or her fists.

Lightning ignored the phone and instead went for the bedroom, changing from her damp uniform into a pair of woven pants and a white tank-top.

She couldn't kill something. But she could clean the frenzy of emotions away.

But even as she dusted the stove for the ninth time, she couldn't forget those words from the doctor. She sighed again.

This was such bittersweet news. She had lost some family, only to possibly gain one which would be entirely hers.

At least, she hoped it was one. Anything more might kill her.

She was happy, as happy as she could manage, but afraid at the same time.

Snow would do fine, but what could she teach a child?

The short list made her cringe.

Once again, she was at the phone.

This wasn't something that she had ever allowed herself to imagine even eight years ago. Having a family... A husband... A child.

She was terrified, ecstatic and sad at the same time. Fang and Vanille, her parents... They would never meet this child.

But Snow, Hope, Sazh, Dajh and Serah. They were her family. They would be a part of this child's life.

Serah answered on the third ring. It was well into nighttime there, but she needed this.

"Serah?"

"Yeah...?"

She smiled, placing a hand on her stomach.

"I'm pregnant."

AN: BY GOD, MY HAND HURTS! Hey, guys. It's meeeee. I'm back doing SLight fics. Yay. So I was on Wattpad and saw the overwhelming number of SLight fics. Zero. _ oookay...? I can't be the only person who likes this pair! So, I wrote this in three days, constantly going over it again and again until I liked it. It's all poetic, yay. Read, review and vote. Thanks. :3 this is 2645 words. Whoa...

( only)

I'm going to be less active on Fanfiction, so find me on Wattpad! I have the same username there, so go there and read my works! People who say they're from FF get a cookie. :


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I did this because I haven't written SLight in a while so I wanted to test myself. Can I still capture teh tension?

Mmhm. You tell me. ^^

Yusnaan. (Onesided? Snow/Lightning)

She would've hated this place with a passion if she were capable.

What possessed someone to create a city dedicated to reveling in the fact that they were all doomed to vanish, a fate worse than death now that Etro, and the delicate balance she controlled, was gone?

Oh, wait. She knew.

Massive amounts of Chaos slowly sapping away the beloved Patron's mind and soul; his very essence, the things that made him Snow Villiers, had been lost.

Or... Had he always been that way and she never bothered to notice? Maybe this was his true self, perhaps he hadn't been consumed by Chaos. Maybe now that he was alone, he no longer had to keep the appearance of a "hero" up and he could be himself.

She shook her head and slapped her cheeks, looking rather out of place on the bench she had decided to use as a place to formulate a plan to save him from himself. That was foolish to think. There was no way in hell that Snow could ever be as pessimistic as her on the inside. He was a hardheaded idiot who lived life to the fullest.

The City of Revelry around her proved that.

This was his grand vision, a place for all to live out their days without worry or care.

Except for the Patron himself. From her perspective, this was a glittering, golden cage, made to keep his madness in.

And that is what she hated more than anything, more than the scantly clad women with rather... envious chest sizes, more than the constant noise, more than the blinding light that obstructed her view of the stars or lack of responsibly felt by everyone.

It was the feeling that he was somewhere out of her reach, where she could look but never touch, never own, never hold and tell him that she would make things better...

Just like always.

Her emotions were dormant in her chest, refusing to stir, but she could tell that frustration and something else would've been rising to the surface in the old Lightning.

She wanted to march into his palace, find him in whatever corner he was sulking in and punch him until the real Snow Villiers was in front of her, boasting in that egotistical, overly dramatic and annoyingly endearing way he did.

But, staring at her hands, tightly bound in leather and metal, she knew that was impossible.

She wasn't Serah. She wasn't the one he'd come back for. She wasn't the one he had morned for centuries.

She wasn't the one he cared for.

She could still taste the putrid bitterness in her mouth at that statement, that knowledge that had been with her for as long as she had known him.

She was the one who threatened to destroy him on many occasions, now and in the past. She was dangerous, uncontrollable electricity that flashed in the sky, reducing everything she touched to ash. Her very name was a testament to that fact.

Lightning.

She was an emotional voyeur, always watching and wanting but never allowed to interact.

Lightning curled her fingers one by one until they became a tight fist, shivering with the tension she felt deep within her memories.

She wanted... She wanted...!

The woman sighed, her hands going slack.

She didn't know what she wanted. Each choice she made would lead to heartbreak.

Which could she take? Her own or her sister's?

Her lack of an answer had her searching for stars on that bench for the longest time, waiting, wishing that one would reveal itself to her.

 **So... That happened.**

 **XD, I have no idea where this came from, I was just watching someone play through Yusnaan this morning and I was like, "I NEED TO WRITE A ONESHOT RIGHT NOW."**

 **And then this disjointed baby came out of my mind hole. Yay. -_- I'm gonna try to do better next time.**

 **Fanfiction edit: Hey guys! It's Crimson Blitz! Changed my username! Nope, I didn't die, I just couldn't bear not being lazy. So I'm gonna do something a bit different from now on! This book will be dedicated to SLight, which is why its forces of nature now and I'll be making a new one for other pairings, since I'm completely idiotic and keep forgetting about that Hope/Vanille Fic I said I'd do...**

 **Ah-haha... Sorry... Also, I'm switching it up so certain chapters will come first.**

 **Now, onto the comments!**

 **First, hot damn, thanks for all the love! Like, I didn't expect for this to get so popular...**

 **I'm gonna start again with Strechy!**

 **Yeah... Heheh... I don't even know what I was writing to be honest... -_-; I was just throwing stuff together...**

 **Guest!**

 **Um... Damn. Really?**

 **Desiree!**

 **I might in my new book, if you give me some more details, I'll try my best... To not make her like Lightning. ^^**

 **Guest #2!**

 **Hehe. :3 thanks, friend!**

 **Cocoon02!**

 **We all laughed. No shame. :3**

 **Also, I'm not sure! I started trying out a new style, that totally isn't stolen from yours, and just posted that.**

 **So, not stolen. ^^;**

 **Bree!**

 **Yeah, no. It's fine! Really! I know that my old style was really... Eh...**

 **This was actually an AU, but I was too lazy to explain it... -_- sorry...**

 **And I'll still be posting here, since people on Wattpad don't appreciate good SLight fics. *shakes head sadly***

 **Wattpad is just a free site where you can post any kind of story with covers, yay!, and has an app where you can post from your phone or device. I like it because I can updates quicker and talk to my friends seamlessly. The layout is better but the fanfiction section is kinda crap...**

 **And finally, Brenda293!**

 **030 your comments are so nice!**

 **So, comment one, same here. Comment two, true as can be, but this was my phase of, where do I want this to go?**

 **Comment three, that's like the third person who pointed out that... Ugh... I need practice.**

 **Comment four, dawwww! You're so nice! And it's fine, your English is better than mine... .-.**

 **Comment five, I will! Thank you all so much for your support! I love you all so much! :3**

 **If I missed any, I'm sorry! I'll check again and redo it next chapter! Love ya!**


	3. First stuff I wrote

Family Behavior.

-(1)- Additions, Chapter Two.

Carlisle peeled the glow in the dark cosmic bodies from their plastic packaging and stuck them onto the green walls of her baby brother's bedroom, taking obsessive care with their positions. Small stars formed trails for the larger ones, suns cradled by crescent moons and several planets here and there. Soft shades of green paint from yesterday's painting session stuck to her sunshine blond hair, which normally would've been an offense that would activate her obsessive compulsive disorder, but she either ignored them or was oblivious to their presence.

Lightning didn't care for the color, but it was the compromise that she had made with her husband. Like last time, they didn't agree on names—who names a girl Carlisle? Snow, apparently. And he had gone around telling everyone that "Carlisle" was her name and Lightning hadn't had a chance in hell of changing it—and they had made a deal that he could choose the bedroom colors and she the name.

That happened last time too, but in reverse. She wasn't sure how in the hell _that_ was fair...

The soft, glittered felt letters on the door spelled out C-L-A-U-D-I-U-S... Which was as out of place as could be with the frame of cuddly firetrucks driven by fuzzy ducklings.

It was her father's name. It meant "bestowed grace" or something to that extent.

Lightning picked at her strawberry cream cheese bagel, licking her thumb in boredom as she watched her daughter flitter around the house. She wanted to help Carlisle, _honestly_. But Lightning had no stamina, which was unusual for her normally, but was a constant for each of her pregnancies. She spent more time napping in the living room—and _eating_ —than she did working.

Of course, Snow—being the caring, excuse-making _jackass_ he was—always said that he didn't blame her, she was carrying a human being inside of her, usual "I can't relate to you because even though I was as involved as you—even more so, because I effing _plotted_ —in creating our son, _I'm_ not the one being sapped of my essence for two-thirds of the year so I'll make excuses for you" husband _bull_ that pissed her off.

But she didn't have the energy to punish him for that offense.

Whatever stamina and strength deficit Lightning had, Claudius had plenty. He kicked her like a maniac and at the _worst possible times;_ henearly broke her rib when he kicked— _hard_ —while she was walking down the stairs. He didn't like cinnamon, eggs or meat. He craved cream, sugar, chocolate and salt. Lucky, she could find things that fit those categories all at once. Cue open bag of caramel-chocolate covered pretzels on the counter...

She would be diabetic by the time this was boy was out of her.

Carlisle stole one from the bag, earning a venomous glare from her mother with an accompanying snarl. "Don't eat my snacks, Carlisle." She warned.

Carlisle blinked, already on the other side of the room, with the pretzel stuck in her mouth. "Mommy, you're acting really weird," the girl mumbled through the bite.

Lightning slapped her head against the counter, her clammy forehead refreshed by the cooling stone. "Leave me alone, Carlisle." She moaned to the marble. "I'm not feeling it today. Eat something else."

Carlisle appraised her mother from her corner, her eyes searching for the answer to the awkward questions that came with having multiple children. Her mother's distended belly seemed to grow by the day, her entire form becoming rounder until she had to buy new clothes, loose and airy things made of stretchy fabrics. The jeans she had found in her mother's drawers had some strange extra fabric that looked like it would swaddle her mother's bump.

Strange things, but she didn't want to ask her parents about them because when she asked about _where_ this baby was coming from—or _how_ it even got there—her parents had become extremely awkward and stumbled over each other.

Lightning hadn't wanted another child, so she hadn't thought this conversation would never happen. And, as such, she had never prepared for this, even though it was a part of growing up. She herself had never done it because she hadn't been as inquisitive as Carlisle was.

By the time Lightning had looked up again, her daughter was in the refrigerator. She came out with a small container of raspberry yogurt and had a spoonful of it in her mouth before Lightning could blink.

That speed—that speed that Carlisle used so naturally—unnerved Lightning every time. What experiences from her—and Snow's—own shadowed past had carried over into her daughter's DNA? Which dark powers had Carlisle been mutated with? L'Cie? Etro's? _Bhunivelze's_?

The problems came from the fact that they just _didn't know_. And that she didn't know which was the worst out of each. Or if Claudius would be the same.

Carlisle _seemed_ relatively normal, at least for now, but what would happen as she reached maturity? What latent talents would appear?

What kind of a life was she dooming them to?

Her emotions, weak and frayed, burst at the seams and trickled down her cheeks.

Tears. The signs of weakness.

When did she become so damn _hormonal_? So _pathetic_? She had become the very thing she abhorred, a weak woman who cried at the smallest uncertainties.

Damn her ovaries.

 _No_. Damn _Snow_ for making her this way a second time.

Carlisle had her arms around her quivering form, on her tiptoes and her face in her mother's hair. "Mommy...?" She muttered as she hugged her. "What's wrong?"

What could she tell her? Lightning's and Snow's pasts were the fairy tales that parents told their children. Carlisle was a child of the new world, never exposed to the darkness.

She whispered, her lips brushing the counter. "Sorry... I'm sorry..."

Carlisle frowned in confusion. "About what?"

What could she tell her...?

Her teeth bit down on her lips. Her spine became lead and her eyes as marble as the counter. She sat up abruptly, making Carlisle squeak in surprise and jolt back.

"Go finish Claudius' room," the woman ordered coldly, avoiding Carlisle's childish and wide eyes. They were embarrassed, wondering what they had done wrong. Carlisle knew her mother didn't like physical, emotional or public displays of affection, but Lightning never got angry at _her_.

The pale blond girl paused, her blue eyes analyzing her mother in the way she did everything she didn't understand.

"Carlisle," Lightning snapped, finally meeting her daughter's eyes. "Do as I say."

And the child was gone.

Guilt overtook her the second Carlisle's—Lightning's own—eyes weren't staring into hers. She knew that she shouldn't be so cold to her daughter, her gentle, sweet daughter who was bashful to the point of not leaving the house because she _just_ couldn't some days. Carlisle didn't fight anyone or anything, so Lightning knew that her sudden cold snap would be in her head all day, perhaps for the rest of her life.

Hooray, she physiologically scarred her daughter. Why the hell was she such a horrible mother?

Claudius, apparently bored, kicked her out of her sadness. She gasped in surprise at the suddenness of this action.

"Don't... even..." She locked her teeth as she hissed. "Don't even start, little boy. I'll give you food. Just leave me _alone_."

He kicked again, annoyed with her. Did he understand her pain? Was he trying to force her to stop feeling like crap in the only way he knew?

Lightning growled in frustration. "Just stop, okay?!"

His voice came, surprised and confounded.

"Are you... Talking to me, the baby or yourself?"

She whirled and Snow stood there, a look of extreme confusion on his handsome face and matching brown bags in his arms. They were small and he was back far too quickly. He must've forgotten half of the list, the jerk.

In a moment of her being _completely_ senile, she hoped that Claudius would have his expressive and kind face.

The blankness in her mind must've been on her face because Snow's confusion contorted into worry. Worry for his wife, daughter and unborn son.

"Light? What's wrong?"

Lightning snorted, rolling her eyes and Snow relaxed. "You panic too much. You don't think I can take care of us when you're gone? That's sexist."

"You're pregnant!"

"That doesn't mean I can't fight."

Snow rolled _his_ eyes and waltzed past her to place the bags onto the counter. "Not going to fight with you."

She grinned, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. Claudius kicked in protest but she mentally told him to shut up. "Because you'd lose."

Snow turned on her and she twitched at the intensity in his eyes. "Who were you talking to?"

Lightning adverted her eyes in that way he knew she did when she was either lying or unwilling to speak.

He sighed reservedly, unpacking the groceries while he glared at her from the corner of his eye.

"...Why do you call him 'the baby'?" Lightning asked, changing the subject quickly. "We agreed on Claudius."

"I _never_ agreed to that!" He had liked Gavin.

"And _I_ never agreed to Carlisle," Lightning snapped, but she was inwardly glad that her distraction was working. "You just effed me over and lied to everyone that _that_ was her name."

"And yet, you love it."

" _Shut up_."

Snow sighed heavily, annoyed. He knew what she was doing. "You want to tell me what you were yelling about?"

Damn it.

"He was kicking me." The second _that_ sentence came out, she knew exactly how childish it sounded.

Snow fixed her with a look. "And... What can we do about it?"

She glared at him. "' _We_ '? ' _We_ '? There is no damn ' _we_ ' in this. _I'm_ the one carrying _your_ damn _demon_ son."

Snow winced. "Anything else?"

"Did you get me anything to eat? Like that ice cream I wanted?"

During pregnancy, eating was her way to forget her emotional guilt.

He catalogued the number of times she had changed the subject and made a point to harass her about it later. Snow tossed the pint container at her and it went wide of her. Lightning reacted to the dull thunk slowly, blinking before responding.

His eyebrow raised. "Lightning...?"

She scooped it up quickly, noting the worry in his voice. "Thank you for that." She spat bitterly, cradling the container to her chest with the crook of her elbow. That look in his eyes made her uncomfortable. It was like he was trying to see into her soul and she didn't like it.

She blushed softly when she saw them moving up and down, scanning her form.

"Go away," she snapped, disappearing into the living room with her pint of ice cream.

Snow scoffed and his eyes found Lightning's abandoned lunch. As he reached for those—expensive—pretzels, Carlisle appeared and had the bag in her arms in a second.

"Hi, dad." She said before he heard her footsteps on the stairs.

Snow realized that she had been listening from the landing upstairs and heard her mother's departure. And everything before.

How many other conversations had she heard?

(-)-()-(-)-()-(-) May 30th to May 30th, 7 at night.

FWAAAAATTTT? I've written this in one day? Lol, you can tell. So this took a really dark turn! Dun, dun, dunnnnn! The side effects of Lightning's life won't be fully talked about in this—because I'm lazy—because of the other story I'm working on but I wanted to get this in somehow. "Creation Reborn" will be coming in about a month, and it will be mostly about Carlisle—and the OC's I'll make up as I go—and Bhunivelze and other peeps. Basically, I'm writing a new Final Fantasy game. XD, my sister called it "Final Fantasy XX written by a sixteen year old and it's better than the ones made by the professionals."

Ha ha.

She's lying.

XD, Lightning's becoming diabetic. My mom nearly got diabetes when she was preggers with my younger twin bothers, eating every doughnut, cake and candy in sight like a BOSS. A pregnant boss.

So the funny story about Carlisle's name is that Snow lied, essentially. Husbands of the world, that's how you get your kid named what you want. Take notes.

I don't know how a woman is supposed to look or act at certain stages of pregnancy so I didn't bother with saying how far in she is. If you can give me some pointers, I'll 'preciate it.

Jeez! What does this house look like?! God, I don't know! I just made it up as I went! Two story houses aren't supposed to be on the beachfront! Grahhhhhhhhhhhh... I've failed, o universe. I don't know climates... Wah.

So... You're a creeper, Carlisle...? Ewwwwkay... (She wanted those pretzels, Harrrr.) The way she does this is the same way me and my brothers and sisters learned everything about our parents private biz. Carlisle doesn't do it on purpose, it just haps ya know?

I use too many words. God flan it.

Toast Writer. Get the buttah!


	4. First stuff I wrote again

Family Behavior.

 **Response to Cocoon02** : Really, Cocoon02? You took a risk on _me_? Oh my bleep. _You_? Oh swoon... I've read some of your work as an anonymous, now I'm blushing that you liked mine... You're such a good writer... （≧∇≦）fangirl moment... _Squee_!

 **Response to Invisible Valkyrie** : Yeah, Invisible Valkyrie, I agree, I did make Snow kind of a... ._. Blank slate, but that was because I couldn't figure out how to make him react. Since he plotted like a boss. LIKE. A. BOSS. Yep! Carlisle is the only one that cooks—edible food. I just wondered who would do the majority of housework and I just dropped it on Snow. I actually love his character

(!) but it's so easy to put him in these kind of situations because he kinda walks right into them. XD, the manly hero has to scrub the floors. (⌒▽⌒) HARRRR...

（^人^）Thanks again and review—this story, and the brand-new Creation Reborn!—please!

-(1)- Additions, Chapter Three.

Claudius reached for his mother, squealing as he did so. His tiny hands, smaller than anything Lightning had ever seen before, were covered in little yellow mittens to protect his newborn skin from the northern chill in the air. He was a winter baby—unlike his sister and parents—born right before the cold season.

Serah loved this, because it gave her a blatant excuse to buy _tiny_ sweaters, mittens, socks and hats for her adorable nephew. Bags of them were accepted with a smile... And then tossed into the deepest corner of his closest. Serah had done the same thing when Carlisle was born, except with dresses, tiny outfits—with _purses_. What does a _baby_ need with a damn _purse_?—and tights. Lightning had _never_ dressed Carlisle in these. They went straight to the donation box at Bodhum's local GreatWill. Let some other vicarious mother dress her daughter in those.

Lightning let her months-old son grasp her index finger with his hands, listening to his accompanying coos with a smile.

His blue eyes were the same shape as his father's, but the dark color that she had. Instead of her coldness though, his had a dazzling luminosity, like surprise azure fireworks during twilight. They matched with the light rosé wisps of hair atop his head. He did have his father's kind and genuine face, but her light—just _shy_ of pale—skin, lit with a soft pink blush right underneath the surface.

Claudius was a beautiful baby, and he was _hers_. Pride and other wonderful emotions filled her chest and inflated her hubris. She had made another beautiful, perfect...- _ish_... human being.

Of course, Snow was involved, but she hardly thought about _that_ , unless she was blaming him for one of Claudius'—few—flaws. After all, _she_ had carried the dazzling bloodsucker for nine months. Claudius was _her_ damn son, not his.

Carlisle's soft, shaky breathing at her elbow made her jump, tearing her finger away from Claudius' grasp. He responded to this with a whine.

"He's _tiny_..." Carlisle breathed with a curious look on her face, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared at her brother. "So... _Tiny_..."

Lightning replied with a short snort. "Yeah, as babies are wont to be." She stuck her hand back to Claudius, who took her finger again. She was lucky that he didn't have his teeth yet because he stuck it into his mouth and mashed his gums against her flesh.

Bloodsucker indeed. What; did he crave flesh as much as he had craved sugar?

"Can I..." Carlisle's eyebrows locked together into a monobrow as she thought of a way to get around her "unreasonable" request. Her eyes lit up as they met Lightning's. "Hold him? _Please_?" She pleaded when Lightning's face contorted into an uncomfortable grimace.

That was unreasonable. She didn't like anyone touching her son. Hell, even _Snow_ hadn't held him more than five times. Not like he hadn't _tried—_ oh, yes, he had _tried—_ but Lightning had bent his arm at a breaking angle until he promised not to touch Claudius unless she gave her explicit consent.

Claudius was just so... Fragile and precious. She had fears of him falling to the ground and breaking into pieces of flesh colored glass. When he was in her arms, she knew that he was safe, protected. She didn't have that guarantee with anyone else.

"Please, mommy?" Carlisle begged, her eyes even wider than usual. "Please? I wanna hold him."

Lightning eyed her daughter with suspicion. Carlisle certainly _looked_ sturdy enough to support Claudius' weight. But she was so damn... _wispy_... But she was Snow's daughter, she had to have _some_ bulk to her.

"... _Fine_." Lightning almost spat, removing her finger from Claudius' mouth, wiped the saliva off on a soft green baby towel and slipped her hands around his body, cradling his head. Carlisle mimicked the cradling pose she had seen so many times before and Lightning gently—ever so gently, in case Carlisle was unprepared—lowered Claudius into the girl's arms.

Carlisle made a low surprised sound at the feel of her brother in her arms. He was... warmer than she had thought possible. He took up such a presence, even with his diminutive size.

It all became real in that moment.

This was an actual _human being;_ he was the thought that had consumed all others since that day when Lightning had told her that she would have a sibling. He was warm and heavy and _alive_. She wondered if she had overwhelmed her parents like this when she was born.

Lightning hovered, something in her twitching—or dying—as Carlisle held Claudius. The little girl rocked on her feet, swaying and calming the boy, who cooed happily. He smiled at Carlisle and Lightning felt a twinge of jealousy.

After assuring that Carlisle wouldn't drop him, she sat back down and glared in their direction. If Carlisle did falter, Lightning could dash out and save Claudius before he hit the ground.

And still, her heart pounded in her ears as she watched her children. Damn, when had she become a helicopter parent; always hovering and worrying wasn't her way.

"Hey, Claudius," Carlisle said to her brother. "I bet you'll love my strawberry ice cream, since mommy ate so much of it."

Lightning blushed a soft pink, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Like her father, Carlisle could be unknowingly blunt with her honesty.

"Don't give him ideas." Lightning said exasperatedly as Claudius responded to his sister's mindless talk with a happy squeal. "We don't need him to be hyped up on sugar."

"Aw... But he'd like it..." She smiled at the boy and kissed his fat, rosy cheek. Her eyes lit up again as another idea came to her. "Oh! Do you want to see my room?" She asked, as if Claudius understood.

Lightning's soul screeched in agony as Carlisle started for the stairs. She was up and stopped the girl before she could take another step. "No, not at all. Do not move with him. Privileges revoked. Give me Claudius. _Now_ ," she hissed when Carlisle hesitated.

With her brother out of her arms, Carlisle pouted. "I wasn't going to drop him."

"And how do _I_ know that?" Lightning snarled coolly, Claudius safe inside of his carrier.

Carlisle sighed deeply and fluttered into the refrigerator, searching for something to eat, per her schedule, all the while muttering to herself about how unfair her life was.

()-(-)-()-(-)-()

Snow's fingers roved through her hair, playing with the rosé strands as she sighed exhaustedly. She was so damn stubborn, insisting that only she could take care of Claudius, despite Snow being more than ready to help. She had some deep seeded fear that Claudius couldn't be out of her sight for more than twelve seconds. Even now, Snow saw her eyes aimed in the direction of the coffee-table. The tablet sitting atop the glass surface showed the camera feed from their son's room.

 _Jeez_ , she had _problems_. She couldn't even focus on _him_ for a second and he was her adoring husband.

She heard him sigh—it was hard not to, considering that she was right on him—and finally tore her eyes away from Claudius after a short internal war. She glared up at Snow and sharply asked, "What?"

"Oh, are you done? I didn't want to interrupt you two."

" _Hardy-har-har_." Lightning rolled her eyes. "Emotional blackmail doesn't work when you're jealous of _your_ _own_ _son_ , ass."

"I'm not jealous of Claud. I'm a bit peeved at _you_ because for months you've been obsessing over him. Carlisle told me that you freaked out when she made an offhand comment."

Lightning sniffed. "She moved to the stairs."

"You still don't yell at her; you'll damage her soul or something. You know how fragile she is."

Lightning winced. She had done that twice.

Carlisle—as if summoned by the mention of her name—appeared on her beanbag sack, dressed in yellow pajama pants, a pink shirt and playing with her little game system—a birthday gift from her uncle Hope—the lights reflecting off of her glasses.

No, she had been there; as quiet as a leaf falling during summer until she had sniffled from a dust mote flying up her nose.

Snow readjusted their bodies so that there was a three inch gap between them and placing his hands around her shoulders, a more appropriate position.

"Carlisle, what are you still doing up?" Lightning asked. Carlisle looked up, those eyes once again wide.

The girl responded like an average child. As if. "I'm not tired."

Lightning frowned. "It's ten. Go to bed."

Carlisle frowned as well and Snow was struck by how similar they looked. He didn't even need to see Lightning's face to know what kind of look she had; he had been on the receiving end of those many times.

"But I'm not tired."

Lightning inhaled sharply. Snow hoped he wouldn't have to hold her back.

"What are you talking about? It's ten at night. You always go to bed at ten."

"I don't want to. I'm not tired. I asked dad and he said that I could stay up if I wanted to."

Rage turned on and it was aimed at Snow. His coming argument fizzled underneath her frozen glare.

"T - That's not... I... Er..."

Lightning narrowed her eyes. "When did this happen?"

' _When you were obsessing over Claudius_?' His blasphemous mind thought. He couldn't say that; she'd murder him in front of Carlisle, always the witness.

"I guess you decided to take Carlisle under your wing, huh? You feeling _lonely_? What? Do you two play checkers before school? Legos?"

Snow blinked when he realized that she was joking in her own twisted way, of course.

"You've been ignoring her," Snow rolled his eyes. "Somebody has to keep her from going insane."

"I'm fine with being alone." Carlisle said in her wispy voice and her parents faced her, worry on their features. "What? I see Lia at school—when she's around—and there's Nora and Faith."

"Cousins don't count." They said together. And Lia especially.

Lia's full name was Liona Kriess and she wandered around with her nomadic parents, Noel and Lightning's sister, Serah. The girl was Carlisle's best friend, but she was only in Bodhum about three months out of the year.

As for Faith and Nora Estheim, eight year old twin brother and sister respectively, they lived about a half hour away in Academia. Carlisle adored them, but—once again—they only visited every now and again.

She could've made friends with the other children that lived along the beachfront, the surfer kids, but she said that she didn't like them. They were too loud, or some other offense.

"No one likes being alone." Snow said, casting a look at Lightning. She stiffened at the repressed memories she had with being alone. "You don't even see Lia or Faith most of the time."

Carlisle tapped the screen of the device and doodled for a second before showing it to him. 12/25. Christmas. She would see them then.

Snow sighed exasperatedly and Lightning did the same. Why was she so... Fine with being alone?

Carlisle stared at her screen for a moment more before standing and whooshing away. They heard her footsteps on the stairs and the shut of her door.

She didn't come back.

Lightning, a bit unsettled by Carlisle's random appearances and disappearances, rolled around on the couch so she could face him. He didn't meet her gaze until she grabbed his chin and made him look at her.

"..." She exhaled softly and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she apologized quietly.

Snow, his cheeks pressed together by her clamped hand, mumbled, "'Bout wat? 'Noring ee?"

She opened her eyes halfway and muttered as she played with his flesh, "I'm not ignoring you right now. Aren't I a good wife?"

Snow laughed with her and pulled her back into his arms.

()-()-()-() June 1 - June 2 Author notes: rambling-tastic.

So I got seriously bored and diverted from the timeline... again. _**Sigh**_...

Warning! This chapter contains fifty percent more Carlisle! Tee hee...

I added the little Snow/Light moment because they don't really have many in my story or otherwise. I do like the moments they have in Lightning Returns—dear god, Snow. What the hell were you talking about, "you gonna make it up to me?" _Perv_ —and wish I could've seen them interact in XIII-2, but that's what we have fanfiction for so... Pltttt...

Eeeeyyyyy... Wait... New idea...! No... Wait...

So, I'm just putting out some requests for someone to help me with Creation Reborn—mostly fight scenes and some songs, but I think I have that covered—kind of like a co-writer/mentor. If you're interested in helping me out, I'd love to know. :3

Anyways... Gosh, I love these two together. They're so cute and strangely perfect for each other, I kind of wonder _why_ Square didn't pair _them_ together, rather than Snow and Serah—bleep, Snow and Light falling in love would've made the XIII trilogy so much better in terms of story and character development. That's what made XIII-2 so good because Serah and Noel's relationship progressed, at least to me.

I never understood _why_ Snow was attracted to Serah when he had better chemistry with Lightning, but I guess Square had to add him in _somehow_. _I_ would've done it differently—can we all agree that PSICOM would've found the vestige eventually and everyone would've been purged anyway, so, meh—but... Canon. It sucks sometimes. Once again, that's why we have fanfiction! Yay!

Aww, there's a baby named Claudius! D'awwwwwwwww... Another funny story of how I got the name for him, but like Carlisle's, I'll spare you the IRL truth. I actually had a few more names for them—like Avis, Polaris, Rose for Carlisle—but these two won out. And I just realized that three out of the four have the letters "C" "L" "A" and "I" in their names. Even though I use the original Éclair spelling, I still count the Western Claire version, sometimes. Claire, Carlisle and Claudius. They even have the same sounds. I have subconscious OCD. How kawaii.

So I'm just going to write Snow x Lightning stuff, aren't I?! XD, I love going against canon. Glad you guys think I'm _good_ at it. I want to say thanks to my reviewers—at the time that I wrote this, May something-something. I didn't check last week; so if I got more, I'll answer them next chapter-sorry

Thick... paragraphs... Wow... I write too much.

Toast Writer. Get the buttah!


	5. First stuff I wrote again again

Family Behavior.

-(1)- Additions. Chapter Four.

She was in the first corner of the living room, typing furiously on that silver laptop she had bought with saved baking contest winnings, open schoolbooks surrounding her self-made "prison." Her eyes were focused on the screen, occasionally flicking to the left where a notebook was rapidly filling with pencil marks in a seemingly alien language where only numbers and symbols made up the characters. Even the name sounded alien: _Algebra_. And, apparently, she barely understood it, because this was the ninth time she was redoing this one problem.

'Incorrect answer' the computer read.

Make that the tenth. She tore the page out and crumbled it in her fist before tossing it at the overflowing wastebasket in the corner. The ball bounced off the piles of other balls lying on the floor.

"No...!" She groaned loudly, burying her face in her palms, her blond hair curtains for her shame. Her eyes ached with exhaustion and strain from staring at the screen—in glasses!—for _hours_. "How do I keep getting this wrong?!"

She tried again.

Again.

Again.

Make her total... Thirteen.

How, how could she be this dumb?! She only had one more problem in this set and she would be finished with her homework until next weekend, after Halloween. Not like she liked the holiday much, people took it too far for her tastes, but she did appreciate the breaks between the suicide missions her brain was always on.

Claudius, his father's blue plaid scarf wrapped around his neck, popped up to the left of her laptop screen, his face ridiculously cute and questioning. Pink spikes of hair almost matching the length of their father's blond mop danced haphazardly around his blushed face and brushed her math notebook.

"Hey, big sister!" He stared at her with those brilliant dark blue eyes, wide and vivid orbs of curiosity. "Whatcha doings?"

She was envious of his eyes. They were the same color as hers, as their mother's, but somehow Carlisle was the only one with glasses. The universe wasn't known for being _fair_.

But otherwise, she absolutely adored her nearly four year old brother. Like everyone else.

" _Math_." Carlisle spat on algebra's grave.

"What's that?" Claudius asked, sitting beside his sister, kicking over books in the progress. "Sounds like fun."

"It's _not,_ " She exhaled deeply through her nose. "...What are you doing now?"

Claudius was playing with her books, making a tower out of them. Occasionally, an illustration would catch his eye and he would be captivated by it... for about seven seconds. "They're like blocks," he noted, not having any trouble with the heft of the textbooks.

"They're a lot heavier."

"Yeah." He thought for a moment, his eyebrows mashing together and pouting. "I want cookies, big sister," he suddenly demanded.

"We have chips-ahoy in the bottom cabinet." She slid her laptop closer to her face, blocking him out.

He frowned; as if cookie location knowledge wasn't enough for him, he pushed her computer out of her face and stared at her. "I want _your_ cookies."

She frowned back at him. "I'm working now. I'll make some later."

"But I want some _now_."

"You have to wait."

Claudius pouted and fell back dramatically. His head made a dull sound on the carpeted floor when it hit and he stretched out, his little grey boots on her keyboard and his pink hands on the cold tile of the kitchen floor. "I don't wanna wait..." He whined dramatically.

Carlisle kept her eyes on the screen. "I have to figure out this problem."

"Why?"

"So I can graduate."

"Why?"

"So I can get into a good college."

"Why?"

"So I can get a good job."

" _Why?_ "

Carlisle looked up and paused. Her mind struggled in thought. How could she beat the childish question of "Why?"

"I... Don't know," she sighed, slapping her laptop closed after shoving his feet away. "I guess I don't know."

"So why you doing it?" Claudius asked, picking at his outstretched bottom lip idly.

"Society?" She stood up and maneuvered away from the piles of books, walking to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow.

"Boo," he said, climbing onto one of the barstools and kneeling into the cushion. "...You gonna make me cookies now?" He asked, excited.

Carlisle smiled shrewdly at him. "No. I'm giving you chips-ahoy." She kneeled down and tossed the blue packet at him.

Claudius made a whining sound but lunged for the pack and tore it open, noshing on the small brown circles.

Carlisle stole a few of the cookies and sat on the floor across the refrigerator. She opened her laptop and began typing again.

As her failing number rose to twenty-seven, Claudius' hair fell into her face like a pink curtain. Crumbs fell down onto the keyboard. She heard munching in her ears and tried her best to ignore it. But she had about as much success as she had with this problem. None.

"Claudy," she brushed the crumbs away. "What are you doing?"

Munch-munch-munch. "Nothings." Munch-munch-munch. "I thought you were done." Munch-munch-munch.

"I was trying to keep you out of my hair."

His hand tussled her hair, getting a few strands tangled in her glasses. She expertly flicked them out of the legs and kept typing with the other hand. "Leave me alone, Claudy," she said calmly.

"I want you to make me cookies."

"One: you already had some; two: you'll ruin your appetite. Mom's making dinner, remember?"

Claudius brightened, his eyes large and cheery. "So we're having pizza?!"

"Okay, ow." Lightning said, picking the boy up by his abdomen and squeezing his tummy, making him squeal. "You hurt my feelings, little boy."

Carlisle looked up and watched her mother tickle her brother, his offense punished.

"But mama, you can't cook!" He said, kicking his feet to get out of her grip but failing. "That's why we always have pizza when you burn dinner!"

She eyed him with a smirk. "Oh, is that true?"

Claudius nodded enthusiastically, still flailing like a maniac. "Yeah, mommy! You can't cook!"

"Okay, that's enough," Lightning said seriously, setting him down on a barstool. "Stop insulting me."

Carlisle detected a flush of pink in her mother's cheeks. Her mother was always embarrassed that she couldn't do the whole "doting mother and housewife" thing like she had expected. It hadn't come naturally to her like it was "supposed" to, that's why most of the duties fell to either Snow or Carlisle and now, Claudius.

But she could obsess over cleaning the floors as if she had OCD, so that was _something_ housewifey.

Her cheeks became a deep shade of pink.

"Mom, don't be like that," Carlisle said, turning her head to meet her mother's gaze. "Don't be embarrassed about the thing."

"I'm not embarrassed!" Lightning said, her voice cracking with the emotion. "Just drop it, both of you."

Carlisle made a sound but kept her focus on her work. "If we're being preemptive, I want yellow peppers and pineapple on my pizza."

"Eww... I want extra cheese and those little fishies!"

" _Anchovies_?" Carlisle stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Gross. How can you eat those?"

"You eat fruit on yours!"

"So do you. Tomatoes are fruit."

"I don't eat tomatoes. I eat pizza sauce."

"What do you think the red is?"

Claudius gaped at her, his tiny world destroyed.

A hushed cry if horror escaped his parted lips. "Noooo..."

"I said, 'drop it!'" Lightning snapped, her blush in full force as she spun around to find a cookbook. How could they be so sure that she would fail...? "I can do this, but thanks for your _overwhelming_ faith in me!"

"Hey, mom?" Carlisle raised a finger and pointed to the cabinets above the refrigerator. "The cookbooks are over there."

 _"I knew that."_

The siblings exchanged sorry looks. Claudius climbed onto the counter, scooting over to where his sister was and jumping down. He pressed his ear against her shoulder and covered his other with his chocolate covered palm.

He didn't like the sound of the smoke alarm.

()-()-()-()

The loud, shrill beeping pierced the still evening air and Carlisle waved a red kitchen towel in front of the smoke alarm planted by the stairs as Lightning ran water over the " _overly-browned_ " meat. Claudius was inside a cabinet, his hands over his sensitive ears as he waited for the hated noise to stop.

Smoke and the smell of burning filled the kitchen and wafted up the stairs, setting off the other alarm in the hallway. Set off by the beeping of the main alarm, the others scattered around the house joined in the grating choir. In moments like these, Lightning was glad Snow had convinced her that installing sprinklers along with the smoke detectors was overkill; she was rather fond of the watercolor paintings in the house.

She was so stupid! How did she not know that the stove was on _ten_ instead of _one_? She could've proved Carlisle's paranoid delusions correct and burned the house down. In fact, the girl's hands were trembling in fear and panic as she fanned the air. Carlisle's chest heaved, her face sweaty, pale and green.

Lightning grabbed the towel from her and said, "Go upstairs. In the bathroom." When Carlisle gave her that martyred expression Lightning hated, she pushed her in the back gently, nudging her to the stairs. "Now; before you pass out."

Carlisle looked a bit disgusted with herself, she thought she could get over her fears of raging fire, but, ultimately, relief flooded her face. She bolted up the stairs in that unnatural way she did and Lightning heard the bathroom door slam shut over the incessant—and alarming!— **beep, beep, beep, beep**.

One panicky child down...

A touch of a button turned the hood fan above the stove on, sucking out smoke. When the beeping faded, Claudius opened his hiding cabinet and poked his head out warily. His hands were near his ears, ready to fly back on them if the noise returned. His eyes raked the room with suspicion before they settled on his mother, who was leaning, completely and utterly defeated, against the opposite counter.

"Is it overs?" He asked and she nodded in response.

"Yeah, it's over," Lightning said, sighing in disappointment. She motioned for him to come out—ignoring the obvious smell of chocolate emanating from his mouth—and he hugged her knees, burying his face in her legs.

"...I wike your 'ooking, mama," his voice was muffled by her legs, but she caught most of his sentence.

She smiled, even though she knew that was clearly a lie. If she didn't burn it, she over-salted something, or lacked the patience for nuanced recipes or just made something taste plain terrible. Hell, the boy knew that takeout was synonymous with her entering the kitchen with any intent aside from snacking. But there was something oddly comforting about his little white lie.

Nearly four years ago, when he was still inside of her, it was like he could read her moods and tried to correct them by either making her happy with a small, gentle nudge or knock her out of depression with a strong kick. Now that he had developed speech and other vital functions, he used his words and tiny hugs to soothe her. She was glad that they didn't lose that emotional bond when he was out of her and in the world.

She ruffled his spikes lovingly and he gazed up at her with those blue orbs of pure adoration. He smiled back, his mouth smeared with melted chocolate.

"Come on," Lightning said, taking his sticky hand and leading him to the sink. "Let's clean your face up."

-()-()-()-()-

Claudius wiggled his deboned, baked anchovy at his sister making her swat the fish away with her phone. He laughed loudly as his mother scolded him for dirtying the carpet in the living room and Carlisle tried to clean her screen.

"Seriously! That carpet's new, Claudius!"

"Sorry, mama," he said when he caught his breath again. "You don't like the fishies, Carlie?" He teased his older sister, who was glaring at him.

"Do you like the fruit?" She asked darkly, her eyes narrow and cold. "The tomatoes?"

Claudius whined and turned to his father, who was trying to salve Lightning's broken cooking spirit. "Daddy, is pizza sauce really apple sauce?" He asked adorably.

Snow thought about the question, mostly about where in the hell it was coming from...

"Not like you think, no," he cocked an eyebrow. "Why are you asking?"

The little boy pointed an accusing finger at his sister, who gave him a bored look. "'Cause Carlie says its like apple sauce!"

"I distinctly told you, 'love apple sauce.'" Carlisle mumbled, her mouth full, sliding her finger up as she read her screen. "It's an archaic term for tomato. It's on Wikipedia."

"Can you please stop doing that to your brother?" Snow asked exasperatedly. "You'll destroy his faith in the stability of the universe."

Carlisle swallowed and shrugged. "He was bothering me when I was working."

"As petty as your mom..." Snow muttered lowly, but Lightning still managed to catch it and glared at him. "What?"

Her voice was cold. "I heard that. I'm not petty."

"You've never heard yourself, then," Snow said, earning him a smack upside his head. "Oh, that's it..."

He chased after her as she ran around the kitchen, pizza sauce on his finger.

Carlisle and Claudius laughed as their father smeared their mother's hair with red streaks. He caught her in the cage of his arms and pressed a kiss to her check, even as she tried to kick out of his grip.

"Stop!" Lightning laughed and gave fighting up. "Snow! Stop!"

"Not until you apologize," Snow said, teasing. "Set a good example for your kids."

"Let me go!"

"Apologize!" Snow squeezed her stomach.

A sharp burst of laughter escaped her. "I - I'm sorry! Okay?"

"That wasn't convincing," Snow chuckled. "With more conviction."

"I'll kill you if you don't put me down!"

-()-()-()-()-

Her head was in the cradle of her elbows, pressed against the cool glass of the table. Her hair covered most of her face as she snoozed lightly, her even breath fogging the glass surface. The screen of her laptop was dark, having fallen into it's own sleep an hour or so ago.

Outside, the near-full moon was reflected by the sea, the bent light casting strange shadows through the windows. The light made her hair glow in an eerie way, similar to the ghosts that her parents joked she resembled.

Snow picked her up, her ectoplasmic hair draping down his arm and sighed. Trust Lightning's kid to work themselves to exhaustion. His finger brushed the laptop, making it whir loudly in the quiet house. She didn't even respond to the sudden sound with anything more than a heavy exhale.

As they—to be honest, it was mostly him— _he_ passed through the kitchen with his feathery daughter in his arms, he heard her whimper and felt her twitch, as in she was having a nightmare. He stroked her hair with his thumb and her face was calm again.

She yawned and rolled into her side after he gently laid her on her bed.

"Night, Carlie," he whispered, closing the door behind him.

Down below, her laptop whirred and its screen light made the walls glow blue. The screen read, after so many tries, 'Correct,' her efforts rewarded.


End file.
